


Speak No Evil

by Up_In_the_Clouds1285



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Amaya Comforts Callum, American Sign Language, Callum protects Ezran, Dark Magic, Element Magic, Hurt/Comfort, Katolis Politics, Mute - Freeform, Mute Callum, Stolen Voice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-07-16 01:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16075163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Up_In_the_Clouds1285/pseuds/Up_In_the_Clouds1285
Summary: “Now, tell me. Where is the egg?” Viren said, his voice raising.“I’ll call out!” Callum’s chin lifted a bit higher. “I’ll scream!”“Go ahead.”orAn AU where Callum is mute a lot longer, where events take darker turns, and thwarting Viren's plot for the thone becomes Callum's personal mission.





	1. Chapter 1

Callum pushed past Soren towards his father’s chamber. “You’re not stopping me!”

But of course, Lord Viren stopped him as he walked out of the grand doors with a cold look of disapproval. “ _You_ should not be here.” 

Callum took a half step back from the intimidating mage blocking his way. Anger suddenly rumbled in his chest at the realization that this was all Viren’s fault, a man he trusted and even looked up to for years.

“I know what you did.” He growled, his fists clenching. “You stole the dragon egg. We found it, and we’re keeping it safe.”

“We?” Viren said.

“The king will have you in shackles when he finds out about this!”

Viren’s expression glowered. “What makes you so sure the king doesn’t already know?"

That made Callum pause. The king couldn’t have known about this. His _father_ couldn’t have known about this. 

Viren nodded at his son. “Grab him.” 

Soren hesitated. “But he’s the prince—” 

“—Do it!” Viren commanded.

Callum turned to run when the guards stepped forward, but he was too late. They jerked his arms behind his back and forced him to face Viren once again.

“Now, tell me. Where is the egg?” Viren said, his voice raising.

“I’ll call out!” Callum’s chin lifted a bit higher. “I’ll scream!”

“Go ahead.” Viren said and drew a small clawed foot from a satchel at his hip. He clenched it in his fist and his eyes began to glow purple as he whispered an incantation. Opening his palm again, a misty green claw rose and slid over and down Viren’s shoulder towards Callum’s face. Callum flinched back but was held firm in place by the guard, his lips parting in mild fear. The claw seized the opportunity and quickly entered Callum’s mouth. 

Callum couldn’t move. He felt it. The dark magic burned hot inside of his throat for the briefest of moments. Its claws closed around something and then left, steeling Callum’s last breath along with whatever small golden glowing thing it held in its clutches. His shoulders dropped as a feeling of dread replaced his previous anger. _What was that?_

He opened his mouth to ask but nothing but air and a rasping sound escaped from his lips. His eyes widened in fear of what Viren had just done. _He couldn’t have? Could he?_ He tried again. Nothing. 

The corners of Viren’s lips turned upward in an expression of satisfaction as the dark magic coiled back into his hand and the purple glow receded deep behind his blackening eyes.

 _No! You can’t!_ Callum tried to protest. But nothing. His voice was gone. No. Stolen. Just like Viren had stolen the egg. Old habits die hard apparently. He _needed_ to get to the king. To stop the war. To stop the fighting. To stop the hate. To stop the murder of the only parent he had left!

“You impudent, little, mongrel! You were spoiled and given _everything!_ ” Viren said, “and that has left you weak and helpless. Tonight, your world is changing. There is nothing you, or anyone can—!” 

Viren was cut short by the sudden silence and the gust of cold night air that blew up the tower stairs behind Callum. He turned to look over his shoulder, noticing it was as if the entirety of life held its breath. No bustle of the castle grounds. No chirps of nighttime insects. No hoots of owls. Like their voices were severed from them as much as his was. 

The cold gust then blew harder and vanquished every source of light in the tower. The guards abandoned their hold on Callum going for the hilts of their swords as they all turned to face the stairwell with a ready stance.

In those last few tense seconds, Callum felt Soren’s hand take a firm hold onto his left shoulder. Whether it was to protect him or hold him in place, Callum wasn’t sure anymore. 

“They’re here!” Soren said as Viren and the guards took a tedious step towards the oncoming danger. 

The arrow flew in from the darkness and Callum realized he wouldn’t be able to move in time. It was Soren’s quick shove that pushed him out of harms way. He heard Soren’s grunt and barely saw the arrow lodge itself right between the crevasse of shoulder plates. Callum was quickly relieved when Soren pulled the arrow roughly out and no blood coated the tip. _That’s gonna leave a nasty bruise._

Soren dropped the arrow and pulled his sword from its scabbard. “Defend the doors!”

The elves that entered were swift and the moon shrouded them in a darkness. Callum could barely see them has their blades swiped and slashed at the kingdom’s finest guards. Realizing that he was in the middle of a chaotic battle, Callum crouched low on all fours and began crawling backwards away from the fighting. He would be no use to the kingdom dead and he was helpless without a weapon (not that he would be all that helpful with a weapon either). 

It was then that he felt more than saw Viren drop his voice. 

_Huh, who knew you could physically drop a voice._ Callum thought. 

Still clutched tight in dark claws, his glowing voice was the only source of light in the room other than the dim glow of the moon and its elves. No one else gave the small dropped object any attention. The fighting took priority. He watched frozen. He shouldn’t just jump into the danger, but Callum needed his voice to talk to the king! Just before he could jump into the fray, it was Soren who surprised him by kicking the magical claw towards him. Again, he didn’t know Soren’s intensions. Was that on purpose or just chance that he kicked it over? 

He scooped up his voice and pulled at the claws. They only seemed to clutch tighter. He needed his voice. He pulled again. This time the claws squeezed and Callum’s throat constricted dropping him to all fours again in a silent coughing fit. He needed it! For the king. Harrow. _Dad!_

He immediately regretted that he couldn’t say it out loud. Ez was right, as usual. _Definitely will have to do the jerkface dance soon._

Getting to his feet once again, he gripped the claw in his hand and stood staring wide eyed at the doors and the fighting just before he heard the small sweet voice of Ezran coming from the window behind him. “Callum!” 

_Oh, Ez! The egg!_ Callum thought. He turned to the window and saw his little brother carrying the dragon egg and looking around with the elf girl and Bait. “Callum, where are you? Callum?”

Callum looked back at the fighting. They were here for Harrow _and_ Ezran.

 _I need to protect him from this._ He thought. And then made the hardest decision of his life.

He pocketed the dark magic that trapped his voice and ran for it. Down the stairwell. Away from his father and towards his little brother and the egg that could save the entire kingdom from more bloodshed. 

He went as fast as his feet would carry him. Suddenly, he missed a step and tumbled down several feet. It was odd not hearing himself gasp or grunt with the effort and panic he was feeling. Pushing himself off his aching chest from the impact, he found himself face to face with a fallen guard. He knew he would recognize the face if he looked any closer. He quickly got to his feet and kept going. There was nothing he could do now. He told himself. By leaving to protect Ezran and the egg, he would be protecting others from the same fate.

Once he made it to the courtyard and to his brother, he stopped and bent over gasping silently for breath. 

“Callum!” His brother said. “Did you talk with Dad?” 

Callum should his head regretfully. The elf girl, Rayla, approached him. “Say the word and I’ll go back in that tower with you.” She was bold and her accented tone exuded confidence. But she didn’t know yet how painful those words were. Callum winced and looked to his brother and the sparkling egg he was holding. 

_No._ He shook his head. _It’s up to us now._

Callum knelt to Ezran’s eye level and held his hands over his brother’s. They were warm from holding the egg. He then leaned forward placing their foreheads together, wishing he could say the words. _We have to return this egg. We have to keep it safe and carry it to Xadia. And I have to protect you._

Bait drew their attention at their feet as he cooed and turned a worrisome shade of blue. He nuzzled his nose comforting into Callum’s shin. 

“Callum?” Ezran stepped back. “Callum, are you okay?” 

Callum looked into his brother’s eyes, sighed, and shook his head. He hoped Ezran remembered some of the sign language their aunt taught them. He shook his head once then held up the number two with his fingers and brushed them over his throat upward. He then pulled out the black claw. 

Rayla’s gasp drew his attention. “That’s dark magic, that is.”

“Wait!” Ezran said. “I don’t get it. What’s wrong with my brother? What is that thing? Why did he say he has no voice?” 

Callum looked at Rayla for help, relieved she understood to some degree. “Ezran, your brother won’t be able to speak for a while. A binding spell has trapped his voice and that claw won’t release it without a counter spell.” 

Ezran smiled optimistically then, “Well, you can fix it! You’re an elf! You know magic, right?” 

“No, Ezran. Elves won’t study dark magic so I don’t know how to fix this.”

Ezran looked back to Callum. “Claudia can then! She knows magic!”

Callum shook his head again and pointed to the egg. _Claudia will give the egg to her father. We need to get it to Xadia, Ez. Please, understand. We need to leave. Dad could be—._ He stopped his train of thought. 

Rayla put her hand on Ezran’s shoulder. “I think he’s saying the egg is more important than him right now.” Callum nodded vigorously. “And if that’s the case then we should go. The egg should be returned to Xadia. We could change things. We could make a difference.”

Ezran looked down at the egg in his hands. “You’re right. It needs its mother.” 

Callum stood and shouldered his pack. He looked to Rayla then Ezran and nodded at both of them in confirmation of the quest. Bait grunted and turned red. Callum smiled and nodded at the small creature too and then they were off, running from the castle and the violence behind them. 

It was the bridge that made him pause. This was the crossing point. They were leaving home with no protection but an elf they just met and a primal ball thingy with a voiceless mage. Callum didn’t know if he could get his voice back without Viren or Claudia. But he couldn’t trust them right now, especially not Viren. By leaving now, he knew it was possible he would be voiceless for a very long time. Who knows how long? But the thought of his aunt Amaya gave him courage. If she could go through her whole life deaf, then he could be mute for however long it takes. 

As he gazed up at the tower he left his father in, he suddenly remembered he fallen guard in the stairwell. He prayed his father wouldn’t meet the same fate tonight. 

As if reading his mind Ezran said, “Callum? Do you think Dad will be okay?”

Callum turned to his brother. He put his best brave face on then nodded. No need for Ezran to worry. _Should I even be worried? He has the finest guards in the kingdom defending him._ Then he remembered the arrow that almost hit him and could have killed Soren. There were already so many casualties before that arrow was even shot. He turned away from Ezran before his facial features gave away his thoughts. Then he jerked his head towards the woods and they all turned to keep moving. 

 

It was a while before Rayla faltered in their half jog. She seemed distracted.

 _What’s going on?_ Callum thought. _Something's wrong._ Rayla noticed him watching her. He pointed at her and then gave a thumbs up questioningly. _You good?_

She hid her right arm subtly behind her back. “No. It’s—we should stop and rest soon.” She looked him in the eye and smiled. She was hiding something. “It’s a long journey to Xadia.”

Callum smiled back anyway, giving her the benefit of the doubt just this once.


	2. Chapter 2

The forest was calm and quiet with the occasional bird singing from tree to tree in early morning song. The kingdom’s eldest prince sat at the base of an old tree, his sketchbook perched on one knee and a charcoal utensil in his right hand hovering above the paper. His left hand held the cursed claw enclosing his shimmering gold voice, and his eyes studied intently at its every detail. He rubbed his left thumb over it gently. The claw itself was cold and brittle but he could feel the glowing warmth pulsing through the dark magic and onto his palm. It gave him some comfort that he was able to keep it so close. Adjusting his position against the tree, he began to sketch. 

Out of all the activities Callum was required to study as a young prince, art was the one he enjoyed and excelled at the most. Of course, as he got older, the necessity to study and practice drawing became less of a requirement and more of a personal inclination towards it. He was always able to engross himself into it somehow. He could put all his focus on the task at hand and shut out all other stress or worries or responsibilities. It helped that his mother encouraged and taught him when he was struggling with proportions or angles. She was always his biggest supporter, and as much as Harrow tried to fill that gap when she died, it was never the same. 

Now, he wondered if he had lost Harrow too. The man was the King of Katolis. But not to Callum. To Callum this was the man who healed his mother’s broken heart with love and restored joy to both her life and his own. This was the man who gave him everything without questioning the definition of the term “step-son” like everyone else liked to remind him of. The man he looked up to. The man he aspired to be some day. The man who gave him Ezran. The man who loved his mother with his whole being. The man who tried to piece together a young heartbroken and hurting boy back together after she died despite his own loss. The man who continued to call him “son” long after she was gone. Had he lost him too? He prayed he hadn’t. 

Then there was Ezran to think about. At just age ten, Callum could see the making of a great king within the young prince. He had the kind heart of their mother and the joyful passion of Harrow. But he was very naïve to most dangers and prejudices that awaited him as crown prince. Callum, although only four years older, understood them and knew he would even experience the vast majority of them (if he hadn’t already), but he would never bear their full weight like Ezran would have to. Callum vowed to be there for Ezran to lean on when he needed it. Now, especially they would need each other on this journey. Based on his first encounter with Rayla, the elves were not going to be overly welcoming to the two human princes of Katolis.

His mind wandered to his conversation with Harrow about mistakes and some of the ones he had made as king. _Probably from listening to Viren too much._ Callum thought venomously. Viren had been ever present in all their lives. He was the right-hand man to the king. His son Soren, the youngest appointed Crownguard in the history of Katolis. And his daughter Claudia was following in his footsteps to become a dark mage. After thinking about them Callum felt torn about his children.

“Callum?”

Soren was only a few years older than him and even though he gave him a hard time with most things, he firmly believed he only did so to make Callum mentally tougher. 

“… Callum?” 

Then there was Claudia, the most beau— _talented_ girl in the kingdom. He hoped he could be as skilled a mage as her someday. 

“Hey!” Rayla’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “That is your name, right? Callum? Clem? Or was it Camel?”

He gave her his best side glance of annoyance. “Any who, Camel, that is a very impressive drawing you’ve got there.” She grinned and gestured towards his sketch. Engrossed as he was in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed how developed the sketch of his trapped voice had become. He nodded and signed thank you. When she gave him a quizzical look, he realized she didn’t know what he had said. 

Then with the charcoal he wrote, “Do you know any sign language?” 

She bit her lip a little like she felt bad, “Sorry, no. I don’t think many elves do. I didn’t know humans were well versed in the language.”  
“Most aren’t.” He wrote. “My Aunt Amaya is deaf so most the family knows a good amount of signing. I don’t remember everything, but I’m sure I’ll be proficient if I can’t get this—” he drew a small arrow at his drawing, “—reversed.” 

“Don’t say that!” she shoved him a little then realized what she said and became flustered, “Err, I meant, don’t think that. Err, write that. You know what I mean! After we get the egg to Xadia, returning your voice will be our biggest priority. Maybe we can find an elf who has knowledge on how to reverse it when we get there. Or Maybe we’ll find a mage on the way. Or you could find a spell that reverses it since you’re a mage!” She was rambling trying to make him feel better. He had to admit it was working a little. He liked her calling him a mage; it felt right. 

“Until then you should keep that close to yourself.” She pointed to his trapped voice. 

He nodded then frowned. He wrote, “I’m worried about dropping it. My satchel doesn’t have good pockets and neither do my trousers.” In all honesty, he was just worried about setting it down and leaving it behind. Harrow and his mother would always get on him about laying things down in random places in the castle and then spend half the day looking for whatever it was (typically his sketchbook).

Rayla hummed thinking. “I could wrap a braded necklace from some elvish materials I can make. It would be very strong, and you wouldn’t have to worry about it breaking or dropping it if it’s around your neck.”

He smiled and nodded in agreement. 

“I can work on it this morning some, but I probably won’t be able to finish by the time Ezran wakes and we need to keep moving. I promise it’ll be done before tomorrow morning and safely back with you.” 

She was asking him to trust her. He could hear it in her voice. Callum hesitated, weighing his options. He could hold onto it and maybe lose it from his own negligence and shoddy pockets or he could give it to Rayla. What benefit did she have taking his voice from him? None that he could think of. But she was an elf. The proclaimed enemy of all humans. And she was trying to kill Ezran. Not even a full day had passed since that little incident. And then there was the fact that he still thought she was hiding something. Could he really set all that aside?

He looked into her eyes for any malicious intent. There was none, only the earnest desire to help. If he was honest with himself, he would for sure lose it without that necklace. What choice did he really have? Trust had to begin somewhere, right? And it was only for one day then it would never leave his side.

Making his mind up, he nodded at her and gingerly handed his trapped voice to the elf. 

Rayla smiled, “Thank you.” _For trusting me_ , Callum tacked on the end for her in his head.  
She pulled some material from her bag and began braiding a cord. As fascinating as elvish braiding was, Callum quickly grew bored and given that his drawing object was now the source of that braid he needed a new idea. 

Inspiration suddenly struck, and he quickly got to sketching. The silence between the two of them as they both worked was the most comfortable Callum had been since losing his voice.

 

Ezran woke eventually mumbling something about a pink hippopotamus’s taffy ear and eating it. Whatever the dream was, it had to be an interesting one. Callum eyed Rayla’s progress on the braid around the claw. He had to admit, it was quite an impressive start. She had coiled ten strands around the stump of the claw, so the glowing voice would hang down alike an amulet. She had begun the braid for the two actual necklace cords but hadn’t gotten that far on them. 

“Okay, quit your staring and let’s have a looksee at yours.” Rayla interrupted his thoughts. He glanced down at his page. He was rather proud of it actually. He carefully tore it out of the sketchbook and handed it to Rayla. It was for her anyway. 

“Oh!” she said surprised. At the top of the page he had written “In case I ever need to tell you something.” Below that was the sign language alphabet. A hand drawn for every letter. 

“Wow, Camel.” She said cheekily. “You shouldn’t have.” 

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head. _No. C-A-L-L-U-M_. He spelled out.

“I know it’s Callum.” But she was staring at the paper now and making small motions that he suspected spelled “Callum”. 

After studying the page for another moment, she looked up realizing she was being a bit rude. “Thank you, Callum. I’ll be sure to remember these.” She folded the paper and slid it up her forearm sleeve.

“We had best get going.” She stood and carefully tied Callum’s voice now wrapped in strands around her empty wrist. The other wrist already had an elvish looking cord tightly wound it. Callum thought it looked a little too tight but was unable to make any comment, so he let it go. 

Putting a little pep in his step Callum patted Ezran’s mane of wild hair (who swatted at his brother for touching his hair) and scooped up Bait who grumbled grumpily at his handling. No one said being mute meant he couldn’t poke fun at his brother. Then he led the way heading east. Hopefully they would make some decent headway by starting early. 

 

They hadn’t gotten very far before Ezran complained about being hungry. “We skipped breakfast, Rayla! Of course I’m hungry! Just because elves feed off the moonlight doesn’t mean us humans do!” 

“We don’t ‘feed off the moonlight’” Rayla rolled her eyes and used quotations with her fingers. “We just eat foods that sustain our needs for longer.”

“Like what?”

“Like this.” She pulled out a corked flask with red liquid in it and held it out for Ezran to have. Callum jumped to attention, a little red flag waving rampantly in his head. He shook his head, made an “X” with his arms. He held his palms up and shook them in a “no thanks” gesture. Then pointed at the flask and wagged his finger and shook his head again. Hopefully, she got the message. Humans don’t drink blood.

Taken aback, Rayla gave him a funny look, “What? It’s just moon berry juice.” 

“Ha!” Ezran said, “So you do feed off the moon!”

She rolled her eyes again, “Fine. We feed off the moon. But so can you, so drink up.” And she handed it to Ezran. Then she gave Callum a sideways glance, “What’d you think it was?”

Callum just shrugged and grinned sheepishly, glad for once that he couldn’t answer. No need for her to worry about all those blood thirsty elf stories. 

As soon as Ezran finished drinking, they continued. It was Callum’s stomach that gave him away next. Rayla’s shoulder’s drooped at the sound. “We’ll need to find provisions or I’m guessing we’ll be hearing that abdominal noise the rest of the trip.”

What Callum wouldn’t give for a hot meal or even just a breakfast roll. The one thing they were missing out on by not going to the Banther Lodge was its fantastic bread ovens. The smell would always waft up from its kitchen and into the prince’s rooms every morning while they were there. It was this wishful thinking that made him pause and jump with excitement. The Banther Lodge wasn’t that far away! They had been heading towards it this whole time!

Pausing, he realized his two companions were staring at him. He held up a finger, asking for a second to explain himself. He drew out his sketchbook and charcoal and began to write. “The winter lodge Ez an I were supposed to go to should have the supplies we need. It’s not far from here.” 

“Oh great!” She said sarcastically waving her arms around and twiddling her four fingers. “I’m sure it won’t be crawling with humans. Humans that are looking for you and want to kill me! Yay!” Her fake enthusiasm made Callum roll his eyes. She folded her arms across her chest as she impatiently waited for Callum to write out his response.

“It’s the winter lodge.” He underlined winter circled it and made little dash lines come out of it for good measure. “It’s been empty for months.” Then he looked up at her violet eyes asking the unsaid request of trust me. He eye-balled his voice currently wrapped around her wrist. He had trusted her. It was her turn to trust him. She noticed his gaze and understood. 

She uncrossed her arms and threw her hands up in relent, “Fine. I guess we can go to this winter lodge place. But I see one human near it and we don’t set foot inside. Food or no.” 

Callum shrugged and looked down at his brother. That’s all they could ask for he supposed.

 

Their arrival was swift from there. Just as expected, the lodge was empty. No humans in sight. Great.

Rayla found entrance to it from an open window and unlocked the front door for the boys. They headed straight for the kitchen. Ezran and Bait could typically follow their noses to any food, so it wasn’t surprising when they found the dried beef stored in a large jar behind the kitchen cabinets first. The three of them (or four if you include Bait) sat for a moment gnawing at the dried meat.

It was Rayla who broke the silence, “You still have that primal stone, right?” She asked Callum. He nodded and pulled out the orb, making a mental note: primal stone not primal ball. 

“Good.” She commented. “It might come in handy. That’s a real storm in there you know? It’s called a primal source.” 

Second mental note: primal source not primal spirit.

Rayla continued, “To cast a spell, a mage needs primal energy. So that wind breath spell you did? You’d usually need a storm or at least a strong breeze. But with that stone you’ve all the power of the sky, anytime. Primal stones are incredibly rare. They’ve been sought after by some of the most powerful arch mages in history, and now somehow you have a sky one. You do know the other five sources, don’t you?” 

Callum shook his head no.

She sighed, mumbling, “What kind of mage are you?” Then asked. “Can I have your sketchbook?” he handed it to her, ignoring her mage comment. She quickly sketched as she spoke, “All magic in the world comes from the primal sources.” She gestured towards her six drawings. “They’re the original and purest form of magical energy—the sun, the moon, the stars, the earth, the ocean and—” she tapped the primal stone, “the sky.” 

Callum gave a firm nod in understanding, studying her drawings carefully. They looked extremely familiar.

He looked at Ezran and pointed at the drawing for him to see, “What about them, Callum?” his brother asked. 

Callum signed slowly and simply, _“You know them?”_

His brother squinted examining them but eventually shook his head, “No. Not really. Well, maybe. Something about them remind me of toys.”

Callum stared for a moment longer then snapped his fingers in realization and bounced his pointer finger at Ezran as if to say, 'I think you’re onto something.' 

He then pulled his sketchbook towards himself and sketched out a cube and wrote, “There’s this cube, I think that’s up in the game room that has these symbols on it! We should check it out. Maybe it’s magic!” 

Rayla rolled her eyes and was about to say something when the sound of horn echoed through the lodge’s windows. Someone was coming, fast. 

Rayla jumped up, “No humans, my ar—” Callum shushed her loudly and gestured something incomprehensible even Ezran didn’t think Callum signed correctly that time.

Rayla moved a curtain out of the way to look through the window. “Darn it! They’re too close to try to run for it undetected.”

Ezran told Rayla, “You’d better go hide. Maybe you can look for that cube thingy while we try to sidetrack them.” Rayla took to the rafters and the boys scrambled out of their seats and to the front door. 

No doubt the troops were there for the princes. Callum could have smacked himself in the forehead. Of course human troops would be coming here! The King wouldn’t have sent his sons to the Banther Lodge without protection. The closer the troops got the more familiar they became. But it wasn’t until the general took off her helmet that the boys recognized her.

The closer the troops got the more familiar they became. But it wasn’t until the general took off her helmet that the boys recognized her.

“Aunt Amaya?” Ezran said pleasantly surprised.

Callum, however, was feeling a wave of emotions upon seeing his deaf aunt. They plunged down behind his navel and then swooped back up making his throat tighten. He pursed his lips to trying to hold them in. 

Bending down to their level, she scooped her nephews up into a big hug. Callum leaned into the embrace taking in the comfort he’d subconsciously needed since losing his voice. Then she stepped back and signed. 

“I’m so glad you’re safe.” Gren translated from behind her.

Ezran looked up at his brother to say something then jumped remembering and began to ramble quickly. “Uh, yeah. We’re safe. Totally safe. Why wouldn’t we be safe? It’s not like we’d be running around or going on a journey on our own or anything like that? Right Callum?” He nudged his brother for some back up. 

Callum jerked, coming back to himself and with fake earnest, nodded and put on a big smile. Look innocent. He thought to himself. 

Amaya gave them a quizzical look then looked back at Gren who just shrugged and raised his eyebrows. Then his eyes flicked up to the open window that Rayla had used to get in. Aunt Amaya turned and saw it too.

They quickly signed to each other and then boldly strode towards lodge’s front doors. 

Not good. Callum thought and rushed to put himself between Aunt Amaya and the entrance. Rapidly, he began signing at her. Her face scrunched, unimpressed at his argument and sloppy signing, and she grabbed him by his shoulders stopping his movements and plopped him to the side. 

She kicked the doors down. 

“I don’t believe in locks.” Gren translated when she signed. They walked in warily, the boys following behind.

Her eyes narrowed as she examined the scene around her. “Someone’s here.” 

Double not good. Callum shoved himself in front of her again and frantically waved his arms. _“No! No one’s here but us and all your troops!”_

Gently, she grabbed his hands to stop him from signing. Then began to motion herself and Gren translated. “Callum, you know better than to sign sloppily. You must be clear with fluid motion or you’ll say something entirely different. Why don’t you just speak for now and we’ll practice signing later?”

Hesitating, Callum’s mouth hung open. He really did want to say something. 

“He can’t!” Ezran’s voice echoed from behind him.

Callum winced at his brother’s bluntness.

Amaya studied Callum for a moment then turned back to Ezran for answers. “Why not?” Gren asked for Amaya. 

Ezran looked at Callum who was staring down at his feet. “Uh.” He looked around the room searching for an answer. “Uh.” He looked at Bait. “Oh! Bait! BAIT!” He scooped up the grumpy toad. “It’s Bait! Callum and Bait are in an intense game of who can be silent the longest! I bet him Bait would win so now he has to do it.” Ezran smiled evilly then. 

Aunt Amaya looked at Callum for confirmation who nodded enthusiastically in agreement with an overly innocent smile. _“Yeah! I’ll mouth the words for now though.”_ He wordlessly said to Aunt Amaya.

“Well okay then.” Gren translated. Then she turned to Callum and signed, “Your signing still needs work though.” Gren didn’t translate; he just laughed a little.

She moved past him and began to head towards the stairs. Triple not good! Rayla’s up there! Callum again tried to side tract his aunt and knocked on her shield so she could watch his lips move. She turned questioningly. 

_Uh._ Thinking fast, Callum grabbed Ezran by the shoulders and mouthed, _“Ezran has something to tell you.”_ Callum nudged Ezran, meaning for him to say something. 

“Um, I… skipped breakfast!” He faked crestfallenness looking down to the top of Bait’s head who was in his arms, “I’m sorry.”

_Perfect!_ Callum thought. Knowing Aunt Amaya, she would be very displeased about any missed meals, let alone breakfast!

Unsurprisingly, Amaya grew stern and signed, “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” The boys smiled at each other then they followed Amaya towards the kitchen hall.

Ezran accidently plopped Bait down roughly into the chair next to him and the grumpy toad grunted in objection to the harsh treatment. Ezran’s eyes widened at his mistake. Callum mentally groaned. The game was up, and the noise didn’t escape Gren’s notice. His gaze immediately fell to Callum expectantly. 

Callum pursed his lips. He appreciated Gren having Aunt Amaya’s back. He was her ears and voice. And obviously, just because Aunt Amaya was deaf and preoccupied with banging rock solid bread against the counter did not mean Gren would let the toad’s defeat in the quiet game slide. 

Gren cleared his throat when the pause became too long; it was explaining time. Before Callum did anything Ezran pulled at his sleeve, “I can tell them. If you want me to?”

Callum’s heart swelled with appreciation for his brother but he felt bad too. 

_It’s my job to take care of you. Not the other way around._ He thought. However, he agreed and nodded to his brother in acceptance of the offer.

Ezran waited for Amaya to turn and when she did she stabbed the table with a hunting knife and tossed the bread in front of the boys. Ezran picked the baguette and fiddled with it as he began to explain. 

“Aunt Amaya,” Callum closed his eyes, not wanting to see their reaction. “Callum won’t be able to talk for a little bit and not because of the quiet game.”

Both mentors looked deeply concerned then. “What happened?” Gren asked.  
Ezran paused then not quite knowing the answer himself. Callum opened his eyes and patted Ezran’s shoulder in thanks for trying. 

Slowly and deliberately, Callum began to sign the best he could and Gren translated for Ezran’s sake.

“It was Lord Viren. He was angry with me for trying to see the King before the… monsters? Oh, elves attacked. He called me spoiled and helpless. But, I needed to talk to Harrow.” Callum made it seem like he was worried for the King and wanted to see him before the assassination attempt one last time. _Because that’s all it was._ Callum told himself. He couldn’t mention the egg, the real reason Viren was so angry with him. 

“This is how you sign for ‘elves’, Callum.” Gren offered. He nodded mentally storing the information. 

Aunt Amaya’s gaze never left Callum. She was expressionless, assessing the story carefully. Ezran however had picked up the bread and attempted to subtly start sawing it in half. When he noticed the pause in the story he looked up, “What? I’m listening!”

Callum raised an eyebrow in amusement and started motioning again, Gren continued, “He used magic—a spell, that separated my voice from my body. It stopped me from saying anything while he spoke. Then the elves attacked, and I ran to find Ezran. I still can’t talk.” His eyes began to water a little. “But I’m okay.”

Amaya’s eyes lit up in anger for a moment and then softened. She swiftly maneuvered herself around the table and cupped her hand around his cheek in comfort. He leaned into her hand. Then she swooped in for a warm embrace. He knew what she meant. _I understand how you’re feeling._ He breathed in her scent, she smelled rugged and a bit like horse, but also her hair smelled of oils, the same oils his mother’s hair used to smell of. He squeezed her tighter and he hiccupped trying to hold in the tears threatening to burst. She rubbed his back between his shoulder blades.

Getting a hold of himself he leaned back. Noticing Ezran was still distracted, he looked at Gren and asked him not to translate. As soon as he nodded Callum signed, _“When I saw the elves attacking outside of King Harrow’s chambers. I—”_ his hands faltered, and eyes closed. He couldn’t do anything when the elves attacked. With that thought, a wave of emotions hit Callum all at once. He had been scared. Viren was right; he was helpless and weak. When the elves cut past the stairwell guards, they could have cut past Soren and Viren into the chambers and—he shuddered and halted the thought. Now, remembering it all, he still felt vulnerable without his voice but most of all worried for his father’s well-being. He thought of the guard in the stairwell. How many were cut down for his father that night? 

_“I only left for Ez, to protect him.”_ He looked at the ten-year-old who was dramatically sawing the stale bread in half. Callum smiled at him, glad his eyes were on the bread and not his hands. _“Then we came here.”_

She looked at Gren and shook her head at him then she leaned back to sign, _“You were so brave. I’m so proud of you. There is much honor in protecting those you love.”_ Gren didn’t translate it out loud.

_“But the King—”_ his aunt gently grabbed Callum’s hands and shook her head. Suddenly Ezran celebrated and took a giant chomp into the slice of bread. When his teeth didn’t make a dent, they all chuckled a little and the mood instantly lightened. Although no noise came from Callum, his aunt’s laugh lifted his spirits and the kitchen’s atmosphere shifted completely. Aunt Amaya didn’t make many sounds. Like most deaf, she had much trouble sounding out any kind of words not knowing how they sounded. However, her laugh would fill a room. It was a little odd, a little off, but that didn’t matter; it was beautiful.

They all smiled. Then Gren spoke up and signed. “We should check the rest of the lodge.” Nodding, Aunt Amaya pushed her chair back and the two left the kitchen.

Ezran gnawed at the bread for a bit but made little progress. Sighing, he held it out to Callum, “You can have the rest.”

_“No, no!”_ he gestured dramatically and grinned, _“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day! All for you!”_

Ezran gave him a funny look, “Breakfast isn’t the most important meal of the day? But Aunt Amaya said it was!”

Callum slapped his forehead. They’re going to have to work on Ezran’s signing.

 

The cushioned bench Callum sat on while kicking himself for coming to the winter lodge did nothing for how antsy he was feeling. There were so many things that could go wrong. He was especially nervous for Rayla because she needed to stay out of sight. Undoubtedly, she’d have figured out that the human troops were here by now. Sighing, he leaned back against the pew behind him and draped his arm over his eyes. _We’re fine. Everything’s fine._ He told himself. Ezran still had the egg. Rayla was undetected. Aunt Amaya and Gren were almost done searching through the lodge.

Many troops were speaking in hushed tones around them. They were discussing something; something they didn’t want the two princes to hear. Callum put a up a mental barrier barring himself from wondering what they were talking about. Better to be left in the dark than to jump to sickening conclusions. 

Ezran was playing with Bait and a demonized looking elf figurine. Elves were not at all what Callum had expected thus far. He never really believed the stories about them being bloodthirsty monsters, but he hadn’t imagined them to be anything like Rayla turned out to be. At the least he thought they’d have fangs! He was a little disappointed that only the horns were true. 

As his thoughts wandered he kept fidgeting. Ezran eventually gave his brother the “what are you doing?” look as he saw that Callum was topsy-turvy, his legs hooked over back rest and his head bending off the end of the bench to look at Ezran upside down.

“Callum? Maybe we should just tell Aunt Amaya what’s going on and save yourself from breaking your back?”

Callum righted himself and gave his brother a huff of annoyance. “No.” He signed and scooped up the wooden elf figurine. _“See this?”_ Ezran nodded. _“We can’t tell Aunt Amaya about the egg because she thinks elves are bloodthirsty monsters.”_

“But they drink moon berry juice not blood, Callum!” Many of the guarding troops heads turned. 

Callum shushed him harshly and gave him a harsh look. 

“Sorry.” Ezran spoke softer. “I just think Aunt Amaya would understand.” 

Callum shook his head again and pulled out his sketchbook to devise a plan with his brother to get themselves and Rayla out of there. Hopefully the row boat wasn’t still winterized in the shed. 

 

_Where is Rayla?_ Callum asked in his head worriedly. He’d thought she would have shown herself by now. Dragging the boat to the river bed would have been a lot simpler to have her elf strength pushing instead of just himself. Ezran was in charge of sneaking supplies from the lodge and Callum got the heavy lifting job. No matter. The job got done. 

Callum placed his own pack with his sketchbook, charcoal, and primal stone in the bottom of the boat. Then he made his way back to the lodge. He would meet Ezran on the east side of it and if Rayla wasn’t there by then the two were going to wait in the woods for her. They needed the elf to guide them to Xadia. Without her, once they crossed the border, no matter how friendly, the two princes would surely be accused of stealing the egg and then killed. They needed her presence as well as a prince to end this war. Not to mention the elf still had his voice. But he decided not to worry about that part.

By the time he made it back to the lodge it was fairly dark. He squatted down behind the compost barrels on the side of the lodge. _Come on Ezran where are you?_ He was hesitant to move from his hiding spot. If he exposed himself any more the guards would surely notice him. They were all on high alert. He could tell. And they seemed to be looking for something. Or someone. 

Suddenly, he was grabbed from behind and twisted around by his shoulders. He found himself face to face with Aunt Amaya who seemed to be scanning him up and down for any injuries. Then she pulled him behind her and signed to Gren who was only feet away as always. 

“He’s over here!” Gren yelled to the troops nearby. Their attention caught, they hustled to their general’s side.

Callum’s aunt turned to him and signed rampantly. _“Where is your brother?”_

Callum’s mouth hung open, and he stared at Amaya frozen in the shock of the moment. 

“Callum! Where is Prince Ezran?” Gren asked again in case Callum didn’t understand the signing. Callum’s eyes bounced between Amaya and Gren and his mouth opened slightly as if to answer but of course he had no way to babble as he usually would in tense moments. Then out of the corner of his eye and over Amaya and Gren’s shoulders was the sight of Rayla and Ezran running quietly and quickly down the steps and towards the river. The troops were distracted. All of their eyes were on Callum. It was Aunt Amaya whose instincts told her to turn to follow his quick glance. Before she could see, Callum jumped to action trying to draw her attention away from the elf and his brother. He signed rapidly something about bloodthirsty monsters and getting away from them. He knew he didn’t sign it right. 

His distraction lasted until a troop from inside the cabin ran out and pointed towards Ezran and Rayla’s direction. “The elf has escaped!” 

_Blast it!_ Callum thought and he turned to run towards his brother and Rayla. Hopefully, he could catch up to them before—. He was grabbed around his waste by Gren. Callum struggled against him. _No!_ He thought. _Let me go! I have to go with Ezran! I have to keep him safe!_

Gren pinned him tight to his chest forcing his arms down at his side as he struggled and kicked wildly into thin air.

_“Get him to safety.”_ Amaya signed to a guardsman. As quickly as Gren let go, the guard’s heavy hands wrapped around Callum’s waste and threw him roughly back over his shoulder, manhandling him back to the Banther Lodge. He continued to struggle. The guard’s grip tightened and Callum winced. He grew frustrated he couldn’t voice his protests. 

Gren, Amaya, and her soldiers rushed to cut off Rayla and Ezran’s retreat. As he was carried away, Callum craned his neck up to look at the growingly tense standoff. Rayla and Ezran were being surrounded. _Not good._

Just as the scene grew more threatening, Callum was forced through the front door of the lodge and the heavy doors were closed behind them. The last thing he caught a glimpse of was Amaya’s archers taking aim for Rayla’s heart.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I've been planning the story out more thoroughly than I had it planned in the past. I intend to update every two weeks. However, the next post won't come for another month as I am traveling here in February. Enjoy chapter 3. Please drop a review! Also, feedback is always welcome!

The Banther Lodge’s game room lay in disarray, its furniture strewn across the floor with chairs tipped over sideways and tables roughly dented. The wall’s décor was stripped and broken on the floor, and the wardrobe door hung precariously on a broken hinge. Even the mantle’s small carved chest had been thrown roughly across the room, its contents scattered.  In the middle of it all lay Callum as he stared emptily at the cracks of the lodges wood beamed ceiling.

Next to him was an abandoned fire poker that he had brandished in rage moments before. Every ounce of anger in his body had dissipated though, leaving nothing but a deep-set anguish that weighed heavy on his chest. It had been too long. Either Rayla and Ezran had escaped without him, or they were hurt. _Or dead._ Fear struck him at the thought, and he fought to push it aside. However, the most painful thing was not getting locked in the game room, or even his bruised knuckles from punching the door; it was the waiting and the not knowing.

His eyes closed, and he took a deep shaky breath to calm himself. Aside from the fear and worry he also felt so guilty. He had failed—as a brother, as a son, and as a prince. _Step-Prince._ Soren’s voice provided in his head. And he was right. He wasn’t even a real prince. This just proved it. How can he be expected to protect a kingdom some day when he can’t even protect his own family? He was powerless. A weakling. Viren was right. _All hail Prince Callum, the weakling failure step-prince of Katolis._ He sardonically thought.

He sighed and slowly pushed himself up on his elbows, looking around at the dreadful mess he made. _Blast it, I look like a child too._ Crawling to his feet, he resigned himself to picking up. It was blessedly mindless work, moving about and shifting things back into place. After righting one of the chairs, it uncovered a rather interesting object. Callum recognized the symbols of the primal sources on it. This was the toy Ezran had been reminded of! He bent down to pick it up and grew confused as it seemed to turn a subtle grey color in his hand. He brought it closer to his face to examine the runes. It suddenly turned a violent black sucking the light from the room. Callum flinched and threw the cube away from him. It tumbled under the window’s curtain and the lights returned to normal.

Callum stared at it, his heart racing. _What was that?_ Then he jumped as the door was suddenly opened. Standing in the door way was Aunt Amaya, her face stoic and neutral. Callum’s stomach flip flopped sickeningly. _Please, don’t let it be bad news._ All he could think about was that soldier in the stairwell and the arrows pointed at Rayla’s head.

Amaya’s eyes softened as she stared at Callum. _She’s not saying anything. Why isn’t she saying anything?_ His breathing picked up and his heart raced. Then Amaya noticed his panic and quickly shook her head and rushed to embrace him. She shushed his airy hiccups and wiped away the tears he didn’t know had begun trickling down his face. Then she leaned back on her heals to look him in the eye and signed, “ _The elf took your brother down the river in a boat. I’m so sorry, Callum. I promise—”_ but Callum couldn’t read her signs through his blurry tears.

He was so relieved. _They got away! They aren’t dead!_ Amaya misinterpreted his tears and hugged him again rubbing his back up and down. His heart was warmed by his aunt’s comforts, but deep guilt began to set in from hiding the mission from her. She had to be feeling horrible that she only “saved” one of the princes, so he swallowed his hiccups and threw his arms around his aunt, nestling his nose in the crook of her neck. He breathed in her scent that reminded him of his mother and felt her arms tighten around him. Just being in her embrace made him believe that everything was going to be okay.

Callum had visibly calmed down at this point and he pulled back from Amaya and rubbed his eyes to look at her. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly gathering herself as well. Then she signed, “ _Our best tracker is following them. If he gets the chance he will make sure to bring Ezran back safely. When we reach the castle, we will group together a rescue party and set out to bring him home.”_

Callum hesitantly nodded, “ _Back to the castle?”_

_“Yes. That will be the safest place for you. Don’t shake your head! You’re not ready for a rescue mission such as this. I know you want to go get your brother but leave that to me and my men. I’ll get him back.”_

_I know. That’s what I’m worried about._ But Callum grit his teeth, shrugged, and nodded. His distaste was probably very visible to his aunt though.

_“Good. Quickly gather what you want to bring with you and we’re leaving.”_ Amaya then stood and turned towards the door. She paused eying the dents on it and then swept her gaze over the ruined room. Callum’s shoulders tensed. Then she just shook her head, a small smirk edging the corning of her mouth and left. Callum let out a huge breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Amaya had a temper too and he was glad she didn’t see fit to inflict it on Callum’s visible bit of childish rage.

As soon as he heard her footsteps down the stairs, he moved to pick up the cube. He hesitated before touching it, then bolstered his courage and quickly pocketed it before he could chicken out.

When he reached his room, he froze. His belongings were in the boat. His sketchbook, the primal stone, and—his stomach clenched—his voice. Rayla still had it. An _elf_ still had it. He scowled at himself for the racist thought. No. Rayla had promised to take care of it until she could return it to him. That hadn’t changed, only the length of time he would have to entrust her with it. He convinced himself that if he could trust her to protect Ezran on their journey, then he could trust her to protect his voice.

By the time he made it outside with a few of his things from his bedroom, most of the party had already mounted their horses. Gren and Amaya were the only two still waiting. Gren held a grey cloak.

“Come here, Callum. We want you to wear this while we are riding into the castle to try to have a smooth entrance.” Callum stepped forward. “We’re not sure how the townsfolk are holding up and it would be best for your return to be revealed once you are safe in the castle.” Gren swept the cloak over Callum’s shoulders. It was thick and warm. Then Gren grabbed Callum under his armpits and hauled him onto the horse. Then he hefted himself up and over to settle in the saddle behind Callum. He leaned back into Gren’s chest. Gren’s arms wrapped around him as he leaned forward to take the reins Amaya was handing him. She then patted Callum’s knee in reassurance and mounted her own steed.

She motioned at the front of the group and Gren yelled, “Forward soldiers!” and they were off.

 

The ride was rougher than any Callum had experienced before. It took a little under two hours, a time span that had taken Rayla, Ezran, and himself most of the day and part of the night to walk. He was glad that Rayla and Ezran were now traveling by river. They would be able to travel much farther, faster. Walking would be too slow. The horses would catch up way too quickly.

As the castle appeared in the distance, its glowing light posed a looming threat. Lord Viren would not have quickly forgotten about the egg and how the boys had taken it from his secret vault. In all honestly, Viren would probably try to discover the path they had planned to travel from him. But that was something Callum wasn’t even aware of. He had trusted Rayla to know her way. Once they moved from the river, Callum would have no idea the path his brother and the elf would be traveling to get to Xadia. Looking back on it now that was a good thing. But it also meant that he had no way to join them even if he wanted to. Callum resigned himself to this. Maybe he could misdirect Viren away from them instead? It didn’t matter. Whatever happened, he would do everything he could for his brother from his end of things.

The tree line was getting thinner now and the castle was almost in view. They would be approaching the bridge here soon. He shuddered. The previous night in the castle had not been pretty—Rayla’s initial attack, Viren taking his voice before he could warn the king, the elves attacking, and him fleeing through the staircase of fallen soldiers. He could remember their faces but not their names. How many more had fallen after he left? What about Harrow? His dad? He winced and pushed it away, holding onto hope. Harrow was strong, he would be fine and waiting to welcome him back home.

How was he going to explain Viren’s treachery to him? He was his most trusted advisor. He held Viren’s opinion above most everyone else’s, especially after his mother died. The man had gotten him through so much of his grief. Now to be betrayed? Telling him that might crush him.

Callum bit his lip; it had to be done. Preventing this war was the most important thing. No more human deaths, no more elvan deaths, no more dragon deaths. Peace needed to be restored, simple as that. It would be hard since Katolis’ King had been attacked, but maybe the past could be forgiven once the egg was returned. He had faith it would all work out. And then he could give Harrow that blasted letter back to him.

Callum flinched. Gren’s head looked down at him. He could practically feel the rider’s concern but Callum didn’t pay attention. The letter! Where had it gone off to? _Blast my stupid habit of laying things around!_ He mentally checked all the different places it could be. It wasn’t in his pack with Ezran and Rayla. And it wasn’t in his pockets either. But where could it be? The forest? Or before then? The bridge? The courtyard? The throne room entryway? The stairwell? He could search the castle for days and still not find it! What if somebody else found it first? What if they opened it and read what it said before he read it? _NO!_ He wasn’t going to read it! He was going to give it back to Harrow! He wanted to rip his hair out he was so frustrated at himself.

They finally reached the edge of the tree line. And Callum shook himself from his thoughts as he noticed something odd. The castle was lit with fires and he vaguely recalled that this only happened when there was an important evening announcement to the townsfolk. The last time that had happened was the evening the queen had died. His breath hitched, and a low buzz of panic grew in the back of his head. From the castle’s balcony, he could see the form of a man overlooking the townsfolk and he was too thin and too pale skinned to be Harrow.

_It’s not Harrow. It’s Lord Viren_. And all at once Callum’s world came crashing down on him at the realization of what that meant. The buzzing in his head grew to a roar and it pounded in his ears.

Amaya turned from her position in the front and motioned something. Her face was grave and ashen in the moon light. Gren flipped Callum’s hood over his head to hide his face and suddenly they were racing across the path and through the gates which were open to allow the townsfolk in. Callum’s heart raced and he stared up at the balcony which Viren had now knelt on. _No. No. No. No. No. This isn’t right._ Callum thought as he watched Opeli lift the crown above Viren’s head. The roar in his ears crescendoed at its wrongness. Before it could touch Viren’s brow, Amaya and Gren’s horses stopped suddenly and one of Gren’s arm wrapped around Callum’s chest to hold him. A horn blasted from one of Amaya’s men far behind them and then Gren boldly yelled for Amaya “STOP! Stop the coronation! The princes are alive!” Gren’s arm tightened around Callum and he clutched onto it like a lifeline. He looked up at the balcony. Hoping beyond all hopes that what he was seeing wasn’t real. Opeli halted her movement and withdrew the crown. The coronation had been stopped but the meaning behind it had not changed. King Harrow had passed. Callum’s father was dead. An old familiar wound, still not fully healed, ripped open once again inside of Callum and he wept at the renewed pain of it, _silently._

He woke in his own room—wrapped in his own blankets, in his own bed, waking to sunlight from his own windows. He smashed a pillow in his face and rolled over.

_“It’s too early for this.”_ He attempted to grumble then groaned when nothing came out. _Oh yeah. The mute thingy._ Removing the pillow and sitting up, Callum blinked and drearily looked around. Everything felt so normal. Nothing had changed, yet he knew everything had changed. He shivered slightly though he wasn’t cold, and he felt oddly calm. Maybe numb was a better word for it.

He slowly pushed the covers off and rotated around to place his bare feet on the tile floor. He then took a deep breath and began his _normal_ morning routine. When started changing his pants, he realized that the element cube was still in his pocket. He pulled it out and carefully set it on his drawing desk. Then he sat and rested his chin on his hands, eyes level with the cube in front of him. Nothing happened to the light this time, but the cube still became pitch black as his face neared it.

He leaned away. It returned to normal. He leaned close. It turned black. Away. Normal. Close. Black. Away. Normal. Close. Black. If anyone were to walk in at that moment Callum would have looked like a chicken bobbing its head as it walks. _What in Katolis is this thing?_ Callum wondered.

Then his stomach grumbled. _Guess it’s time for breakfast._ He swiped the cube off the desk and pocketed it again.

When he opened his door to leave, two guards stood side by side next to it. Surprisingly, he didn’t recognize either of them. Harrow usually assigned—. Callum suddenly knew why he didn’t recognize either of them.

One moved to block him from the corridor. “Excuse me Prince Callum, but we have been assigned to protect you and must ask you to stay in your living quarters.”

Callum opened his mouth to reply and promptly snapped it shut. He leaned to the side, eying the hall that lead to the kitchen. He briefly thought about making a run for it but decided against it.

Callum squinted at the guard. He wanted to know why this was ordered, wanted to put on some princely charm to ask but couldn’t, so he pursed his lips, briefly nodded, and stepped back into the room. _Fine._ _Lovely. I’m a prisoner in my own home._ Not being able to speak was getting old fast.

If Aunt Amaya ordered his private stay then he could let it slide, but in all likelihood,  it was Viren trying to keep him out of the way. _Wouldn’t want Katolis’ step-prince messing up Viren’s new reign, now would we?_ Callum thought bitterly, anger beginning to fill his empty void of numbness.

He tapped his foot impatiently and crossed his arms.

His current options were to wait things out or to go get some answers for himself. He chose the latter and pushed his bookcase aside to get to the small passage doorway. Before, his drawing desk hid the half door which allowed for easy access to the passage. Unfortunately, Ezran had a bit of a habit of using it far too liberally so Callum had rearranged with the bookcase so his brother couldn’t get in without properly knocking. Now Callum would keep the desk there any day if it meant that Ezran would be the one on the other side of the hidden door. He and Bait were far better than Callum at navigating the passages.

Once he opened the inconspicuous panel he rushed head first into the darkness of tunnels. Then he froze, backtracked just as fast, tripped, and landed face first on his rug. _Blast it, where is Bait when you need him!_

After righting himself, Callum examined the room for a light source. The oil lamp on his drawing desk was a little too bulky to carry, but the candle on his side table would work just fine. He lit it with the tinder box in his desk drawer and then returned to the secret panel. As he entered, his stomach rumbled again. _First order of business: breakfast. Second order of business: stop Viren from taking the throne._ And Callum closed the panel and followed his nose to the kitchen.


End file.
